


Like Any Other Day and Not

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Family, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: Prompt: Jowd comes home from a long day of work and smiles as he sees his wife and daughter (Any guest characters here too)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Like Any Other Day and Not

**Author's Note:**

> Ghost Swap treat for PajamaZam over at Tumblr! Those irresistible Jowd moments…

Jowd heaves a slow sigh as he exits his car and approaches the door. He’s no stranger to long and endless seeming days, yet he’s come to learn the difference between the cycle of mindless work and returns to his cell and now the thrill of the chase and the fine balance of what he knows and what he is able to show he knows at any particular point. Memory is a funny thing, both useful and traitorous.

He gives a low chuckle to himself. He’s entirely familiar with the betrayals of memory as well. He grasps the doorknob like any other day and freezes.

_She went ahead and he would come behind shortly. The all too familiar crack of a gunshot caused him to abandon all thought of the extra present he’d left in the car. Speed didn’t matter. There was nothing he could do but stare in shock at her body splayed across the floor, her blood leaving her. Kamila’s terrified sobs stabbed at his ears. Their lives were torn apart in a matter of seconds._

Jowd breathes out a different sigh. It’s the wrong time. It’s the wrong year. It doesn’t matter; _that_ will not happen again. He won’t allow it and things are different now. The events of the park changed. They have help should the worst somehow come to pass once more.

He enters the house and his gaze passes over a floor clean and spotless. The rest of the house isn’t so lucky and is all the better for it. Toy blocks and animals lay scattered across the living room floor. Alma is in the process of trying to convince their daughter to eat her cereal, a messy affair in itself.

She’s so young now. He still remembers her as she was, growing so fast, clever and…

_Tears stained her cheeks as he tried to reassure her. It wasn’t her fault. This was never her fault. It was his and his alone. The image remained frozen in mind and every painting he tried called back to her frightened face. His fault. She was better off now. He never saw her again. He left her fate to Lynne and he never saw her before a bullet took his life once more._

Kamila isn’t the only unfamiliar familiar face here. There’s little Lynne sitting cross-legged on their floor showing a determination he knows too well to draw over Sissel who sits just out of reach.

_Lynne was no longer the little girl saved at the park from his mistakes. She was no longer the teenager hanging onto his every word, an accidental student who should have found herself a better mentor. She was determined and fierce, a detective on the case no matter how he tried to chase her away. Maybe she was taught too well. She was left behind in desperate hope in a place she should never have been._

Their family appeared to grow by not just one but two that fateful day. If he could yet bring himself to face old years’ truths he might wonder what else might happen earlier in this second chance. It’s no bad thing. Changes are welcome; the farther they stray from the path that led to this the better. He wonders just how much more he should be thanking Sissel for.

Lynne beams at him and Jowd returns a small smile. His smile grows as he lifts Kamila from her chair and she throws her arms around his neck with an exclaimed “Da!” and all thoughts of food are forgotten. Alma’s smile shifts from exasperated fondness to warmth when she looks up at them. One arm is enough to keep Kamila balanced. With the other Jowd squeezes and holds Alma’s shoulder, relishing the feel of her and taking in every detail from the stray hair over her face to the softness in her eyes despite the tired lines from too many interrupted nights and early mornings.

The day’s difficulties melt into the softness of this moment. His family, new and old, are here.


End file.
